


Falling Stars

by merlypops



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, On the Run, Paris (City), Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26620564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlypops/pseuds/merlypops
Summary: “There’s no time,” Will murmured, as though whispering the words would give them less power. “It’s over.”Hannibal’s eyes flashed."Not yet it isn't."
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	Falling Stars

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back already! Apparently I can't stop writing Hannibal fics (I'm on my third re-watch, oops) and I'm feeling ALL the feels.  
> Hope you enjoy this! (Sorry for the angst.)

It was still dark when Will woke.

The bed was conspicuously empty beside him and his heart seized with fear as he forced himself upright, blood thundering in his veins. The deep cut in his cheek throbbed in time with his panicked heartbeat as he twisted frantically, searching through the darkness for -

 _There_. On the narrow balcony.

Hannibal was standing in the open doorway with the moonlight illuminating his face, gazing out over a city fast asleep. The gauzy curtains barely stirred in the breeze and the illuminated numbers of the clock showed that it was just after three in the morning when Will rose stiffly from the bed, still aching from the fight with Dolarhyde. Hannibal turned at the sound of him, taking in Will’s rapid breaths and trembling hands, and the way his t-shirt was damp with the sweat of another nightmare.

“My absence alarmed you,” Hannibal noted contritely, his words soft. “I apologise.”

“I feel ridiculous,” Will muttered, unable to meet Hannibal’s gaze as he came to a stop beside him. After a slight hesitation, he leant into the doctor’s warmth, gazing out over Paris. “I thought… I thought they’d come for us.”

“No, Will,” Hannibal reassured him wryly. “Believe me, when they come for us, you will know.”

“ _When_ ,” Will repeated bleakly, his chest tightening. “Not if.”

Hannibal didn’t answer. He seemed content to continue drinking in the beauty of the city below them and Will found he couldn’t blame him for that. Distractions these days were hard to come by.

Hannibal seemed at home amongst the Gothic Parisian architecture and Will allowed himself to steal glimpses of the doctor whenever he believed it would go unnoticed, taking in the quirk of his full lips and the glint of his clever eyes.

“The boarding school I attended is nearby,” Hannibal said conversationally, leaning absently to brush a chaste kiss over Will’s unruly curls. “As a boy, I often used to walk around this neighbourhood. There was a patisserie that served the most spectacular mille-feuilles. If we get the chance, I would like to treat you to one. I believe you would enjoy it.”

Will laughed, the sound strange and brittle enough that he couldn’t stop himself from wincing. It felt wrong to consider sampling pastries when they were on the run from the FBI... when they’d been on Interpol’s wanted list for _weeks_ and couldn’t leave the apartment without fear of being apprehended.

Almost as if on cue, a police car crawled by slowly below them and they both held their breath until it had passed, its sinister blue flashing lights swallowed by the darkness.

“There’s no time,” Will murmured, as though whispering the words would give them less power. “It’s over.”

Hannibal’s eyes flashed.

“Not yet it isn’t,” he retorted, his brow creasing as he fixed Will with a considering look. “Fetch your coat, Will. Sleep seems to elude both of us tonight so I will not chase it. Let it come to us when it’s ready.”

“My coat?” Will frowned, glancing once more at the clock in confusion as he flattened his hair nervously. “Why? Where are we going?”

“Out,” Hannibal said simply as he buttoned his jacket up over the creased shirt he’d been wearing the day before. “While we still have the opportunity.”

He lifted a paper bag from the table beside the door, tucking it beneath his arm as he ushered Will out into the dingy hallway and locked up behind them.

The dim light painted Hannibal’s features in stark relief and Will found himself lost in the doctor’s gaze for far too long, taking in his sharp cheekbones and the darkness in his gleaming eyes.

Hannibal watched Will too, taking in the unhealthy pallor of his skin and the hint of bruising he could see creeping out from beneath his coat. His injuries were wearing him down - so were Hannibal’s - but there was little more they could do to speed up the healing process but rest. They’d already purchased as many painkillers and bandages as they could from surrounding pharmacies without drawing attention to themselves, and they would just have to hope it was enough. There was no way they could turn up at a hospital; not when what felt like every law enforcement agency in the world was searching for them.

“Come, Will,” Hannibal murmured, settling his palm gently on his shoulder as he guided him towards the stairs. “Let us take a stroll. I want to show you the Paris of my youth.”

Will tangled his fingers with Hannibal’s as they walked, limping a little as he listened to the doctor’s soft voice describing the places they were passing. The Eiffel Tower looked tiny from here, illuminated in the darkness, and Will gazed at the tiny lights as they meandered down the street, his wounded cheek falling to rest lightly against Hannibal’s shoulder.

Will loved him. The realisation struck like lightning, like a caress, like raindrops falling as gently as mist. It seemed obvious now that he thought about it - _painfully_ obvious - and his heart clenched terribly in his chest as he gazed up at Hannibal in awe, unable to comprehend the rush of his emotions.

Here was a man he would kill for - indeed, _had_ killed for - and it still shook Will to the core when he remembered the terrible monstrous things they’d done to each other, done together… when he realised that every barbaric thing he’d ever witness was tinged with tenderness now, because they reminded him of Hannibal.

Somewhere along the way, Will had become one of the monsters he’d worked so hard to catch… had become cruel and twisted, and warped beyond belief. Somewhere along the way, he’d fallen in love and that love wiped the slate clean; eased away the remorse and misery like flakes of paint, until all that was left below was the desperate desire to hold onto the man he’d bound himself to.

Will wasn’t stupid. He knew they’d never be able to build a life for themselves, here or anywhere else - they’d committed too many atrocities to ever be granted peace now - but perhaps they still had a little time left together before it was all over. A handful of hours left as they enjoyed their last taste of freedom.

Paris was a beautiful city, sprawling and serpentine, and riddled with a thousand places to hide, if only they were clever enough to find them… if only they had the energy left to keep running… but Will didn’t _want_ to keep running. He didn’t _want_ to be clever anymore. He was tired and he hurt. He had done for a long time.

“We’ll stop here,” Hannibal said quietly, jarring Will from his contemplation. “There’s a bench. You need to rest.”

During their gentle stroll, Will’s limp had grown more pronounced and he could see that the doctor’s face had paled considerably due to the pain emanating from his bandaged gunshot wound. Neither of them were in a fit state to walk much further and they sank down gratefully, too tired to continue.

“It’s beautiful out here,” Will murmured as he tilted his head back to gaze up at the stars circling overhead, the sky a silvery fresco of moonlight and wisps of cloud.

“Have you ever heard of the titaness Asteria?” Hannibal asked as he removed the paper bag from his jacket. When Will shook his head, his lips twitched and he shifted a little closer, closing the space between them. “Asteria is the goddess of falling stars. In Greek mythology, Zeus was said to have chased her across the stars but she escaped by transforming into a quail. She flew away to the sea and Zeus was never able to capture her.”

Will sighed, lowering his head as he frowned down at their entwined fingers.

“We’ve already flown to the sea, Hannibal, but Zeus is still following us,” he said quietly. “There’s no escape.”

“I agree.” Hannibal opened the paper bag with a rustle, reaching inside to produce two slightly squashed croissants he must have purchased while Will was sleeping earlier on. He passed one of the pastries over before taking a bite of his own, allowing the flaky pastry to melt on his tongue. Hannibal closed his eyes and exhaled heavily.

“There is a police station across the road, Will,” he said. “In an hour, if you still feel this way… I will walk through those doors with you. We will hand ourselves in and we will stop running.” He held Will’s gaze, heartened when he didn’t break eye contact. “I am with you until the end, Will. You know that, don’t you?”

“I do.” Will’s eyes stung with tears as he took a bite of his own croissant, his throat thickening with emotion. The pastries were certainly no mille-feuilles and the park bench was slightly damp from the rain that had fallen a few hours earlier, but suddenly it didn’t seem to matter very much, because Hannibal’s palm was cradling his wounded cheek and the love shining in his dark eyes was unmistakable.

For the next hour, they were free. They were together and they had each other, and perhaps that was all that mattered.

Perhaps that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to anyone who read this <3  
> Please remember to leave kudos/comments if you enjoyed this - I'd love to hear what you thought!


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